Twins Should Never Be Apart
by thesporktheives
Summary: Fred watches the life slowly seep out of his twin. AU of sixth year. Written for the 'Terminal Illness' prompt on HPFC.


First George's muscles weakened.

They thought nothing of it. Fred would joke that George was getting old, and George would crack right back that even if he was getting weaker, he would always be stronger than his twin.

Then he had trouble breathing and swallowing.

That's when Fred knew something was wrong, but George wouldn't admit there was a problem. After a lot of convincing and threatening, George succumbed to the pressure and went to St. Mungo's.

Then they found out what was wrong with nearly broke right then and there as his twin told him what the problem was. For the first time, Fred thought, "I wish it were me instead."

Then George lost the use of his hands.

Fred panicked quite a lot. The doctors had told them they weren't sure how quickly the disease would progress (because it varied for all patients), but Fred always assumed they would have more time. It had only been a week since they learned of George's fate. He couldn't loose his other half so George lost the use of his arms.

And Fred pretended to stay strong. One night, however, when George finally fell asleep, Fred sobbed. The Forge to his Gred would be taken from him in a matter of months, and he couldn't figure out what he would do afterwards. Then Molly found out.

They couldn't hide the fact George was sick when he couldn't use his arms and hands. So when their mum dropped in for a surprise visit to the shop, they told her the truth. Molly did exactly what Fred wanted to do every day; she held George in her arms and sobbed. George told her (in his slightly slurred speech) to tell the rest of the family, because he couldn't bring himself to do it. Fred felt this was for the best, because watching his entire family break down would cause the entire façade to crumble to pieces.

Then George couldn't walk anymore.

Fred recruited Lee Jordan to help run the shop with Verity while he helped George. Around this time, Fred began to sink into a depression. It was becoming real to him now that his twin would only have a few more weeks. That thought was horrifying, and he often cried himself to sleep, even though the last time he cried (other than when George lost the use of his arms) was when he was six.

Then George wasn't understandable to anyone.

Anyone, except Fred. Maybe it was because the twins had a special bond, maybe it was a fluke, but even when it was a slurred mumble passed recognition, Fred made it out. "Thank god he could, because," as he often thought, "if I couldn't, I'd probably go insane."

Then George's muscles got dangerously thin.

Fred knew the end was almost on them, and he was terrified. He couldn't live without George. That would be like Hermione without books, Ron without food, and Harry without his bloody scar. Fred often wondered what he did that was so wrong that he deserved this twisted punishment.

Then George was dying.

Fred knew it deep in his veins. Nearly immediately Flooed his mother to let her know, he was turning to the only person who would understand how he was feeling in the slightest. As he sat by George's bedside, he wished the two of them had went out like their Uncles, Fabian and Gideon. At least they died together, not like what they were doing now, with George leaving him and him being stuck here to suffer alone. George looked up at him then, his breaths shallow, and coughed out a just-barely audible, "Love you Freddie.""Love you too, Georgie." And George closed his eyes, never to open them again. Fred let the façade crumble, and Molly walked in to see one son lying in his bed, unmoving, and his twin sobbing, face in both hands by his bedside.

Now George was gone.

Fred was severely depressed. Most of his sentenced drifted off into space without someone to end the though. He couldn't step foot into Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, let alone go back to get his stuff from their shared flat, the flat that George and a large part of himself died in. Fred mostly stayed up in his and George's old room at the Burrow, lying in the shards of the mirror he shattered upon arrival (his reflection was George's as well, and he couldn't take it). Most of the time he would wish for death to come claim his body too, so he could see George again. Fred was alone for the first time ever, and he hated it. Twins should never be separated._** A/N: Well that was more difficult that I imagined. I'm sorry if this is horrible, but trying to watch one dying while the other watches killed me inside around the third , this was written for the Terminal Illness prompt on HPFC. I chose George because J.K chose my had ALS. Now I know no one with ALS, and all my information was taken from the disease's website. On that note, I would like to add this took place over the course of 5-8 if I messed up any of the information, or you don't find it believable, or you loved it and want to bless me with invisible maracas, just click that little review button and tell me how you feel.**


End file.
